


Can’t help but be wrong in the dark

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Straight down the rabbit hole [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Curufin is there even when he's not, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hunting, M/M, Not a Euphemism, Referenced gore and animal death, Snake Eating, Uncle/Nephew Incest, listen if I start listing all the ways in which it is explicit we might be here all night, so sneaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9526964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: In which Celegorm and Celebrimbor take some time away from Nargothrond and the nights aren't nearly long enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elfbones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfbones/gifts).



> 0\. I have officially taken so long to post this that this would have been automatically deleted from my drafts tomorrow. AO3, keepin me honest.

“Celegorm?” The whisper was quiet in the dark tent.

Celegorm, who never closed his eyes on the hunt even at night, shifted into wakefulness at once. “What?”

“There’s a snake in my bed.” Celebrimbor’s voice was very careful.

Celegorm grinned into the darkness and moved a little nearer. “Is there now? Tell me about it.”

“I’m not being coy,” said Celebrimbor with repressed urgency. “It’s curled up at the bottom of my blanket.”

Celegorm ceased what he was doing, which was creeping his hand over to Celebrimbor’s bedroll. “Oh.”

“Can you… Can you just ask it to leave?”

Celegorm blessed his nephew’s soft-heartedness. Curufin would have already killed the thing with the sharpest object to hand. “Aye, likely enough. Let me get a closer look at the creature.”

“You needn't hurt it, just – ”

But when Celegorm pushed himself upright, he saw at once that the snake had coiled and at the whisper of movement was preparing to launch in the direction of the closest warm thing. So in the moment the snake began to move, Celegorm reached for his nearest knife and flung it with abortive accuracy.

The snake’s head tumbled to Celebrimbor’s blanket beside its twitching body.

“Or not,” said Celebrimbor sadly.

“Sorry,” said Celegorm, flicking the bloody remains into a corner of the tent. “Couldn’t have it sinking its fangs into your supple bosom now, could we?”

He could see the face Celebrimbor made at him in the darkness. “It wouldn’t have done me much harm.”

“You might not have turned your face to the wall and died black in the tongue like one of Felagund’s Men,” Celegorm acknowledged, “but you might not have been able to grip a hammer properly again for a week. Or a year.” He draped his grease rag over the snake like a shroud. “I’ll get Dagnis to cook it up in the morning, her snake skewers are shocking good.” He turned his grin back on his nephew but Celebrimbor was looking preoccupied and didn’t answer. Instead, he was so quiet he might have been asleep again had he not blinked when Celegorm waved a hand before his face. "You there?"

"Mm."

Celegorm sighed and dropped back down on his blankets, surrendering Celebrimbor to his own thoughts. He wondered, not for the first time, why he insisted on being drawn to cerebral, inward types – or if he was forced to be honest, two in particular.

It was maddening trying to read what was behind their eyes.

 _What are you thinking about_ , Celegorm thought as loudly as he could, but Celebrimbor did not enlighten him.

 

* * *

 

Celebrimbor was thinking about snake skewers.

He was also thinking about his father. Despite not being physically present, Curufin seemed content to pop up in Celebrimbor’s thoughts as intrusively as he ever entered Celebrimbor’s quarters, and he managed this even when Celebrimbor was thinking of nothing more astonishing than a dead snakes.

It was possible the association would have annoyed him. 

But the possibility of snake skewers was, Celebrimbor thought, yet another reason Curufin would have sooner handed a silmaril to Manwë than accompanied them.

_He had wrinkled his nose the moment Celegorm’s pack had appeared on the floor of his quarters, his quarrel of arrows at its side._

_“I am going to pass,” he’d said, his long dark braid sliding over his shoulder as he lifted his chin in distaste. Celegorm’s eyes followed the movement like a cat tracking a dragging string. “I have no desire to find myself wrist deep in a dead rabbit accompanied by a pack of unbathed hunters and that awful woman you keep on retainer. You’re on your own.”_

_“Not my own,” Celegorm had said as Celebrimbor, who had been keeping quiet in the corner, rolled up his cloak. “Tyelpe will be with me.” He winked at Celebrimbor, but Curufin had turned away and didn’t see it._

_“May you both enjoy it,” Curufin said dismissively. “You couldn’t pay me to go.” He swept from the room and Celebrimbor let out his breath, his hands unclenching from the flap of his pack._

_“He didn’t even notice that I hadn’t asked him to,” said Celegorm cheerfully, and drew a skinning knife against his whetstone with a sound that put Celebrimbor’s teeth on edge. After a moment, Celegorm had laughed, his teeth white and sharp. “I’ll have to tell Dagnis she scored another mention from my brother – she so treasures his attention.”_

 

* * *

 

Celegorm rested his head on his hand and watched Celebrimbor not paying attention to him. Was this just repayment for serpent rescue? He wondered if he should take his clothes off.

 

* * *

 

There was movement beside him but Celebrimbor paid it no mind, remembering Curufin's scathing estimation of Celegorm's hunting companions. Rare as the occurrence was, Celebrimbor had to agree with his father when it came to Dagnis.

Dagnis was Celegorm’s captain of the guard and unofficial second-in-command, though she never called him _sir_ except in mockery. She had a tendency to grin at him with a sparkling insouciance that Curufin labeled ‘insubordinate’ and Celebrimbor thought was rather like Celegorm’s own. Perhaps that was why he kept her around; that and her talent for drink and the efficient killing of animals. (Animals, Celebrimbor thought, with a twist of discomfort. And other things.) Dagnis wore her hair in long twists on her head that she painted with lye so they bleached bone white and the brand on her forearm was a match to Celegorm’s own. She had meant to join the Bacchanal of Vána, she liked to say, but was rejected for enjoying fun at too great a cost. For a company of folk who frequently ate animals alive in their hallucinogenic revels this was saying something, and Dagnis gave the impression that joining Oromë’s Hunt had been very much a fallback option.

Dagnis had scared Celebrimbor when he was a child. She had a knack for scaring children, the way she would bend down to smile too wide with her sour breath, her teeth polished to points and her kills notched into the plaited leather belt that wound four times around her waist. She had been frightening enough that even without Curufin telling him to do so, Celegorm had ordered her away from Celebrimbor both in the Tirion days and later, on the ships. The order stuck; long since Celebrimbor was a grown and blooded warrior and above such childish fears, Dagnis still gave him a distance that would have been respectful had it not come with such a sharp smile.

Celebrimbor shifted in his blankets at the thought of her, wondering why she unsettled him so. Celegorm unsettled as well but while Celegorm made Celebrimbor feel anticipatory and alive, Dagnis made him uneasy. Perhaps it was because, for all Celegorm’s teasing and capacity for cruelty, Celebrimbor felt safe with him. Dagnis offered no such promise of protection. 

“If you don’t stop thinking about my captain instead of me,” said Celegorm, his voice deep and lazy, and Celebrimbor realized he had gone many long minutes without speaking, “I shall have no choice but to be jealous.”

“As if you are ever jealous on my account,” said Celebrimbor, but he rolled over and put his arms around Celegorm’s neck.

“You have no idea,” whispered Celegorm, and pulled him close.

 

* * *

 

_You would fear me, if you knew how much I covet you._

Celegorm was always a jealous lover, as jealous as any in his family. Jealousy was in his blood, jealousy his earned right, jealousy as close a companion as Huan or the Oath. If he did not show it, it was only because careless apathy suited his purposes better.

_Do not mistake my geniality for generosity. Do not mistake my crudeness for credulity._

_Pay attention._

He had been enough forced to endure not being the singular focus of attention to desire it rabidly whenever it was offered, to crave it as strongly as his father craved creation. When it was withdrawn he ached as badly as one hard with desire denied release, or one starving denied food. But if he was to starve he would rather settle in for a long winter than be teased with a meal once in a blood moon - and he would be damned if he was going to watch Celebrimbor turn a tease even unconsciously. 

“Good to have you back,” he murmured to Celebrimbor now, seeing that his nephew had returned from the place he went where Celegorm couldn’t shake him. He flicked a finger against Celebrimbor's cheek. "Now look at me."

"You're naked," observed Celebrimbor. He slid a hand down Celegorm's bare chest. "Did bloodying the snake get you overheated?"

Celegorm grinned, satisfaction rich in his stomach as he felt Celebrimbor's hand drift lower. " _You_ got me heated. Do you plan on doing anything about it?"

Another lover might have baited him further but Celebrimbor just laughed. "You know the answer to that by now. What would you have me do?" 

“I would have you need me." Celegorm stared into Celebrimbor's face and blinked slowly. "I would have you never take your eyes from me. I would have you watch what I am doing to you.” He grabbed Celebrimbor's chin and kissed him once, twice, then pulled back. “ _Look at me.”_

Celebrimbor looked. Celebrimbor’s eyes were not turned inward but on him, hungry and bright and the color of early morning. Celebrimbor watched him and Celegorm was satisfied.

 

* * *

 

Here in the wilds, free of stone and walls and Celebrimbor's father, Celebrimbor expected Celegorm's ferocity to be magnified - as fast and thorough and savage as he ever was under Nargothrond's arching ceilings given the space to stretch and seize and howl. Celebrimbor was ready for a taste of savagery, ready to bundle civilized life away with his court clothes and let himself be naked and debauched on the forest floor. His blood rose to that expectation, his focus as sharp as it had wandered before, and he felt this must have been the true reason he had awoken rather than the ill-fated snake. 

And then, for whatever reason, it took Celegorm’s fancy to be patient.

It was unheard of.

It was also maddening.

Despite Celebrimbor's increasingly desperate wandering hands, Celegorm seemed satisfied to simply kiss him for what felt like hours, and when Celebrimbor's lips were swollen and bruised he moved to teasing Celebrimbor's ears and throat.

"Celegorm," Celebrimbor protested, when Celegorm's hands stayed above his waist, stroking his ribs and ghosting over the swell of his pectoral with damnable delicacy. "I have a cock, you know."

Celegorm laughed out loud and kissed his scowl. "And are you going to beg for my fist around it?"

"If that's what it takes," began Celebrimbor and broke off with a gasp as Celegorm's fingers wrapped around him. "Finally."

But though Celegorm moved his hand between Celebrimbor's legs he seemed in no particular hurry, his own erection a hot pressure against Celebrimbor's thigh that he made no effort to take care of. He moved with no more urgency than he had when counting the earrings on Celebrimbor's ears with his tongue, and Celebrimbor reached down to wrap his own hand around his uncle's to move him faster. Celegorm made a tsking noise and Celebrimbor pulled back with a huff. But just as he was opening his mouth to complain, Celegorm took him by the hips and rolled him over. 

And spent another century teasing him with his tongue. 

Every decade or so, he deigned to add a finger. 

Celebrimbor decided that he loathed him. By dawn he was wrung out and hoarse from whispered pleading, almost ready to give up on release and collapse to the blankets in defeat. Surely, surely pleasure was not worth such torment. 

“Celegorm,” he said, not bothering to whisper as Celegorm twisted three fingers within him. “I'm going to kill you.  _Celegorm_.”

“Celebrimbor,” said Celegorm teasingly, drawing out each syllable to stand naked on its own, and Celebrimbor could have struck him in frustration. He would have, but Celegorm had an instinct for violence as sharp as foresight and besides, he would have enjoyed it too much. Celebrimbor settled for making pathetic noises instead, but Celegorm only looked amused and kissed the small of his back, damnably gentle.

After an age, Celegorm tipped his head to the side, his fingers sliding lazily out of Celebrimbor. “Time to reward your patience, I think.”

Celebrimbor swallowed until his dry throat allowed him to speak again. He rolled onto his back and Celegorm finally let him go. “About time, you bastard.” 

“You sound like,” Celegorm broke off and laughed. He sat back on his knees and stroked his own cock, his state of arousal as pronounced as Celebrimbor's. “Get on me, then.”

The inside of the tent was thick with the smell of sex and Celebrimbor's desperation, the light going grey as the sun rose. Celegorm urged Celebrimbor atop his lap and Celebrimbor sank down on him with a gasp of raw pleasure, throwing his head back as the birds began their morning songs. Celegorm's tongue and fingers had left him open and ready and he didn't slow as he took Celegorm to the hilt, closing his eyes in relief as he wrapped a hand around himself. He rocked back, low and deep, taking charge of his pleasure for the first time that night.

Celegorm watched him through half-lidded eyes, a slow smile on his face, his hands spread low on Celebrimbor's waist. He moved willingly to Celebrimbor's rhythm, urging him on with encouraging growls, allowing him to set the pace – until he didn’t.

Finally acting like the creature Celebrimbor knew best, Celegorm tossed Celebrimbor back on the ground and covered his nephew's mouth when Celebrimbor let out a noise of surprise and pleasure. His hand heavy over Celebrimbor's mouth he moved faster and rougher, spreading Celebrimbor’s thighs wide so he could watch as he sank into Celebrimbor’s body. He always enjoyed the look of himself moving into Celebrimbor - the complement of their straining thighs, the wet sounds of their joining - and Celebrimbor never knew if it was admiration or vanity that made his eyes shine so to watch their coupling.

(It was neither, he thought – it was possession.)

Celegorm bent his head, his hair sweeping Celebrimbor’s skin, moving in shallow strokes designed to maximize his own pleasure and leave Celebrimbor teetering on the edge. With the dawn the camp around them was beginning to stir, those on cook duty starting the fires and others rumbling about in sleep-fogged voices as they readied their horses for the day. Celebrimbor, whose thighs were burning with the strain and whose blankets were sopping with sweat, began to think about being overheard and tugged at Celegorm’s hair to warn him along.

“Patience,” said Celegorm softly.

“Patience?" croaked Celebrimbor. "It’s been hours, you inconsistent fiend. You couldn’t wait long enough to get back to the tent after the kill yesterday.” Not that Celebrimbor had minded; the squelch of blood and viscera had been surprisingly untroubling in the face of Celegorm’s need for him. The entire thing had lasted only a few minutes, their own blood running as hot as the steaming gore around them.  _That_ had been what he expected, not this infuriating and wicked slowness. 

Celegorm grinned, enjoying Celebrimbor’s show of temper. “That was yesterday, maybe I am a different sort of fiend today.”

“You are always the same fiend,” said Celebrimbor, “but even so – ” He almost added something tender but held it back. He was not sure he did feel soft towards his uncle just now and one could never be sure how Celegorm would react to love.

Celegorm lowered his head to suck at one of Celebrimbor’s nipples and Celebrimbor moaned and clenched down reflexively. Celegorm echoed his moan, his self-control finally showing a crack, and Celebrimbor felt a surge of glee. “Eru, boy, your arse is a sin.”

Celebrimbor tightened again, deliberately shifting his hips to take Celegorm deep. He dug one hand into the curve Celegorm’s buttocks, sliding into his cleft to tease him. His touch made Celegorm growl and bite and in a burst of inspiration he put his mouth to his uncle's ear and growled, " _Tyelkormo_."

The sudden stuttering drive of his hips told Celebrimbor he had hit his mark.

“Damn you, whelp, damn you,” gasped Celegorm, shaking. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted – _ah_ _!_  Oh, I will make you pay for that.”

Celebrimbor shook his head and bit at the fingers Celegorm slid over his lips. “I don't care,” he said hoarsely, trying to get Celegorm’s hands around him. "Me now."

“Oi, Lord Celegorm,” came a voice from without.

Celebrimbor jerked in surprise, his movement making Celegorm groan and shudder all over again, his stomach sliding slickly against Celebrimbor’s hard cock. Despite his fever for further contact, Celebrimbor braced his hands on Celegorm’s shoulders to still him, chilled by the voice outside. But Celegorm just gave a breathless laugh and continued to roll his hips.

Outside Dagnis was talking, quite unfazed.

“The idiots didn’t salt the venison right and it’ll be stunk by noon,” she was saying. “I told you they were too green to be worth their rations.” She was very close, just on the other side of the leather tent flap and Celebrimbor didn’t know what Celegorm was playing at. He pushed at him again but Celegorm just sucked on his neck and kept laughing.

“She won’t come in,” he murmured into Celebrimbor’s neck.

Dagnis chuckled, as if she had heard. “Want I should whip the lot of them and turn the meat for the dogs?”

Celebrimbor bit down around a cry. Celegorm had pulled almost out of him and was pressing hot fingers to Celebrimbor’s entrance, slippery with seed. When he pushed back in again with his softening cock, it was with a filthily obvious sound that Celebrimbor was certain Dagnis’s sharp ears would detect. Unfortunately it was also accompanied by a rough tug on his prick that set him gasping and his eyes rolling back in his head and utterly unable to tell Celegorm to stop.

“Aye, punish the fools and reward the dogs,” called Celegorm, as cool as if he were giving orders in the field rather than fucking his own come back into his nephew. He never took his eyes from Celebrimbor’s face. “And I have some snake for your cookfire that I’d have you prepare.”

“You know I’ll never turn down your snake,” said Dagnis cheerfully. “I’ll go whip my boys and leave you to yours.” They heard her laughing all the way down the path.

“She knows,” whispered Celebrimbor.

“My people are loyal,” said Celegorm, pulling at him. “My people know to hold their tongues if they want to keep them. Now stop flapping yours and let me feel you come while I still can press my prick to the back of your throat.”

Celebrimbor thought of saying something to this but Celegorm’s hand was tightening on his cock and his teeth were at his breast, and Celebrimbor was too busy trying not to shout his uncle’s name to retort.

 

* * *

 

The cookfire smoked and popped. The hunters milled about tightening saddlebags and comparing fletchings, paying little heed to their lord and his nephew eating a late breakfast by the fire.

One hunter in particular was paying pointed non-attention to them. Dagnis picked her teeth with a knife as she leaned against a tree and started to hum an ancient, mocking tune.

Celegorm got up and stretched languidly, wiping his mouth as Celebrimbor balanced himself gingerly on the log they were sharing and tried not to burn his fingers on the snake skewer. It was not bad, he’d admitted when Celegorm nudged him, though fishier than he’d expected.

With a brief press of fingers to Celebrimbor's thigh, Celegorm yawned and strolled over to Dagnis' tree as if it were his own idea to go.

She only pretended to notice him when he was close enough to touch. “Oh, my fair foolish lord,” she murmured in the old tongue, clucking like a badger. “What _shall_ old Dagnis do with you?”

Celegorm leaned against the tree beside her, indolent as a well-fed hound. “Don’t fret your pretty white head about me, Dag.” The old tongue came to his lips with more difficulty than it once had, but this way Celebrimbor wouldn’t register their conversation as anything more than forest chatter. "When have you ever needed to worry about me getting in trouble?"

"Never, s'long as you keep me happy." She flicked something from between her teeth and ran her tongue over her lips. "Am I going to be happy?"

"You old wretch." Celegorm patted her arm as if acknowledging a joke. But his eyes met hers as he did, and neither held true humor. As his hand slipped from her shoulder, he let something bright slide down her collarbones.

She caught the object deftly and bit it, then nodded in satisfaction. "One for every moon, eh? Tilion would like that."

"Aye." Celegorm was watching Celebrimbor again. "Every moon, fine."

"Glad we understand each other." Dagnis made the bright object vanish with a twitch of her fingers and then straightened to clap Celegorm on the back as if he were a comrade rather than her commander. Curufin would have demoted her to permanent latrine duty for such familiarity, but Celegorm just laughed, his humor restored, and turned away.

"Right!" he roared at his hunters. "Which of you do I skin for wasting my venison?"

 

* * *

 

Picking a thin bone from his teeth, Celebrimbor looked up and saw that Celegorm had gone, striding off to the riverbank. But as he looked around he caught the sharp eyes of Dagnis, leering across the fire at him. He swallowed his mouthful and dropped the bone to the ground. 

"Good breakfast," he said, for lack of anything else to say.

“There’s not that likes the taste of snake better than snake itself,” she said and he stared at her, wiping grease from his lips. 

"I don't follow," he said, but Dagnis just chuckled and showed the points of her teeth.

Instead of answering him she made a gold coin appear for an instant between her knuckles, a small and shining sun. Then she winked and strode away, snake fangs clasped like a comb into her bone-white hair.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Opening scene courtesy of [this post](http://imindhowwelayinjune.tumblr.com/post/153694842866), title courtesy of Ruelle (via elfbones, thanks for keeping me in pain)


End file.
